Man, Air Miles sucks. I’m booking three months in advance for a flight to Halifax, of which there eleven that day. Air Miles only has seats on the earliest and two latest flights, nothing on the other either. The three available flights are all so early or so late that no normal human would want to take them.

Argh.

Pretty good start to the Hot Docs festival. Last night we saw Murderball (hot docs | imdb | rotten tomatoes) at the Isabel Bader theatre. It had gotten a lot of hype from the local newspapers & weeklies, but we weren’t disappointed. Far from it, in fact. It was even better than advertised: funny, intense, inspirational, informative, engaging…everything you want from a film, and everything you wish TV could be on a regular basis. The characters in this film will stay with me for a while. They have issues, just as we all do; theirs are bigger, but that means they’ve had to do more to overcome them and get on with their shit, and that makes them compelling. The filmmakers did an incredible job to show us that.

To steal a term from Bill Simmons, there were a few “chill moments” in Murderball, but another occurred after the credits during the Q&A (captured perfectly, as always, by Sam at Daily Dose Of Imagery) when one of the directors acknowledged Jeff Adams in the crowd. It was something to see him in person, and nice to see him give the film a thumbs up.

So write this one down now. When it comes to theatres or gets released on DVD, put down your money. It’s worth it. Speaking of money, last night confirmed something for me: a festival pass for Hot Docs is, hands down, the best $60 you can spend on entertainment in this city.

I gave it 5 out of 5 on my ballot. If I’d had a pen I’d have written in a 6 and circled it.

Last night we finally got around to watching one of the zip movies on our TV stand: When Will I Be Loved (imdb | rotten tomatoes). It was another we’d wanted to see at the film festival last year but couldn’t; that’s probably for the best. I didn’t like it that much, and Nellie hated it. HATED it. Something about top ten worst movies ever. I didn’t hate it that much, but it certainly won’t make my year-end best-of list.

I thought Neve Campbell wasn’t the right person to pay the lead role, I thought pretension took the place of grit in too many scenes, and I thought 25% of the movie was unnecessary throwaway. But I also thought some of the shots were beautiful — especially in that loft, which was a hundred times sexier than a naked Neve Campbell — and the finale was interesting enough.

All in all, though: avoid, unless you’re in a pretentious kinda mood.

What’s the emoticon for “swoon”?

Making me laugh, thereby making me a geek: Darth Vader’s blog.

This might officially qualify as sick: I think I have a little crush on Faye from Questionable Content. Add that to my previous avowal of butterflies for Amanda Congdon and I’m obviously disturbed. Luckily, I find neither of them as adorable as my wife, so I think my current grip on reality stands.

But if Salma Hayek gets her own daily media clip and/or comic strip…look out.

Pitchfork will hate the new NIN disc. Unless word gets out that everyone expects them to hate it, and they’ll love it. Unless that seems to obvious a ploy to appear anti-mainstream, in which case they’ll give it a 1-point-something.

Predictions? I say it gets a 3.2.

After avoiding the hype for as long as I could, I’m really beginning to dig on the Kings Of Leon. I think it was partly the ubiquity of that Volkswagen commercial playing “Molly’s Chambers”; couldn’t get it out of my head. I downloaded Youth and Young Manhood, and added it to my wishlist last night. I haven’t given Aha Shake Heartbreak a full going-over yet, but will soon.

Hot Docs starts tonight.

Argh. How can tobacco farmers be pissed about this? Are you telling me they didn’t see it coming?

Ontario’s proposed smoking ban will put the province’s tobacco farmers out of business and foster the spread of cheaper, foreign tobacco, a public hearing into the legislation heard Thursday

(from the Globe and Mail)

Be vewwy vewwy quiet. I’m hunting indie-yuppies.